The following otises were triggered by this prompt.
OTIS A (one letter at a time)
Built up like a stalk two legs
of a tottering manifesto
she fleeced her anger like a sheep
got to the Portuguese sibilance
of it slipped on black ice
vulgar omissions
the pasted thick prose of her
life purpled lists and fingers
knots to cut the circulation
she envied the fresh cut grass
a flitting murder scene how
the flamingo blushed without thinking
- Peter Cole Friedman
OTIS B
The person with no head,
who avoids all toe guillotines,
is a bivalve of love
of the V for Victory kind,
who spurns inscrutabilia,
videos of the 1953 Coronation,
life as an empty glass,
countries with no boats
and all V for Happy Valley signs,
may, one bright day, outrun the grumpy dingo
find love between even a snake-rope
and a rope-snake.
- Seth Crook
OTIS C (Using one word from every other line of Otis A and every alternating line of Otis B)
Dandelion head
waving on your stalk,
as fleeting as love
fleeced by time.
Love spurns manacles
easily slipped on
when empty of emotion.
Hearts pasted on the wind
signs of egress
knots untied
snake-rope escaped
flitting, a ghost.
CLASSIC OTIS THREAD (the bolded words below the otis were selected from said otis for the next otis to work from):
it goes how it goes
tottering toes under foot
hooded sun by hands (we could just make it out)
a final gesture
before falling to black
omissions come rushing
bars/nights/juniper bush/sunrise
her fingers under chin/the smile
and hum with open lips (we could just make it out)
redly welcoming him hum
slapped into the new
but nothing was allowed.
- James W. Moore
how, toes, sun, gesture, before, come, juniper, fingers, hum, welcoming, into, allowed
How the fisherman
loved her toes
warmed by the sun.
They seemed a gesture
from before,
when, come kiss,
come juniper,
their fingers touched,
when all was a hum,
a casual welcoming
into
into what was allowed.
- Seth Crook
fisher, toes, by, seemed, from, kiss, juniper, their, hen, casual, in, what
A fisher netted in his own
shadow tiptoes across the water
not by miracle
but loneliness (it once seemed)
threads from undone
waves fraying the broken
ends of kisses
the salted scent of juniper
their spoken-ness eroded
hen’s quiet blur of egg she was
so casual laid out like the sky
he could only talk in tides in changing
moons in what was soon to be a lie
- Peter Cole Friedman
netted, across, not, once, undone, waves, salted, spoken, she, like, talk, moons
They netted stars
across the midnight skies
not in their hearts.
Once caught, netted
and undone by starlight
tidal waves of love
were salted away
never spoken of again
until she, waxing
like a seed pod,
agreed to talk
of moons.
- Margo Roby
stars, midnight, their, caught ,by, tidal, away, again, waxing, seed, agreed, of
Do they carry anything besides stars
in those bags of midnight?
Their eyes and thighs
caught up in Saturn’s rings,
by lamplight they travel
the tidal, star strewn highway,
away from anything resembling home,
asking the same questions again
and again, moon bellies waxing,
seed gathered and spread
over what they agree is either sky
or a river of blood.
anything, bags, thighs, rings, travel, strewn, home, questions, moon, gathered, sky, blood
This morning, I’d do just about anything
to unpack these bags. You could trap me
Wrestlemania-style between your thighs,
get Bill at the pawnshop to give back the rings
or swear you’ll stop this “business travel” shit.
Yet unimpeded I scoop up strewn pieces
of this single family home into my coffers,
shedding unanswered questions at the door.
The moon is a ghost against Snuggle-box blue.
My friend, we are not gathered here today.
I schlep my life’s half out beneath the clear sky,
your blood the only thing racing after me.
about, unpack, Wrestlemania, get, swear, pieces, single, unanswered, snuggle, today, beneath, racing
She, going on about Gorilla Monsoon.
Me, thinking I’d unpack, yet watching the sun slide
vanishing down the blinds. Wrestlemania on full—
LET’S GET READY TO RUMBLE—
volume, I swear, not a tatter
of peace,
not a single
unanswered hyperbolic roar. "He, a giant,
wrestled bears." I snuggle the smirking stuffed one
she put to sleep earlier today.
The sun now gone beneath the driveway,
she, racing across the kitchen for a spoon.
- Beth Ayer
monsoon, slide, full, rumble, tatter, peace, not, giant, stuffed, earlier, gone, kitchen
After a monsoon of a day
she slides into home,
a place full of words
and him, waiting to rumble
on about the tatter of their days
-- no peace and quiet,
not a ray of light
until the giant martini
with three stuffed olives
which he prepared earlier.
For now, tension is gone
from the kitchen of her soul.
- Margo Roby
day, into, full, waiting, about, and, light, until, three, prepared, tension, from
walking in dim late day light, a far off
looped beat, a slurry step into a wet street
full of cigarette butts, receipts and shoelaces
waiting for a street sweep or a feckless kid
about to add to a partial collection of discarderabilia
and memories touched perhaps by him, by
by lips light and fingers worn, the middle one
flipped until no more flippings were flipped
i counted three in front of that sign.
we were not are not prepared and
whatshouldhavebeen basks in content tension,
its precise digits keeping me from ever breathing right again.
(for chuck)
dim, slurry, butts, sweep, partial, touched, worn, no, front, are, basks, digits
Dim mirror
Slurry of blue
Sky and ocean
Your head butts out
Sweep of lullaby wind
Partial escape
Touched
Eyelids worn blinking
“No” as an act of generosity
Front-facing
His arms are:
Love basks sunless
No digits to count on
- Peter Cole Friedman
mirror, blue, and, out, lullaby, escape, touched, blinking, as, facing, are, sunless
Asleep in my rear-view mirror,
you hide your blue. Ten hours
and one joint gone, we barrel
out into the starry tarred night,
a one-sixty horsepower lullaby
your only escape. Beyond lashes,
the decision that touched your days
goes blinking into the back window
as a disappearing city. You,
facing unbarred futures, doze
away the miles as though you are
holding tight to sunless days.
asleep, ten, joint, tarred, horsepower, beyond, decision, goes, disappearing, unbarred, away, tight
you do this thing when you’re asleep
not yet REM (around ten) you appear disturbed
rolling, curling uncurling, (I think your joints ache)
murmuring tarred (I think you mean tired),
tossing and all your resting horsepower sinks
you’re out beyond
every decision you've ever lost in the wash or
hummed until it goes dim or
planted in the backyard, disappearing
in the unbarred space behind your twitching
eyes, away, away like miles without feet
holding tight the pillow that erased your weight
- Beth Ayer
&
asleep you’re simple and iridescent bold
joined at ten by Chupacabra, blessed at eleven
holding court with the joint committee.
I saw you laughed and about tarred
out of town, gunning horsepower passing
rapidly out beyond the flicker, your
decision a wicked companion, nose up and
off it goes, your Pegasus flitting heavily
in the shine, a disappearing decree unleashed
far below, a sliding message just unbarred
wilderness peeling away from you,
you gripping tight the wheel of life.
- Beth Ayer
thing, appear, curling, mean, sinks, out, lost, dim, planted, space, without, weight
The thing about life, you see,
is that it will appear, day after day
whether you feel like curling up in a corner
or mean-spiritedly want to grab
hold of that which sinks in your soul
and have it out, once and for all
before all is lost to day after day after...
and life becomes a dim shadow
you, ambushed, planted in front
of a space you had avoided, a pit
without a ladder, no rope, no helping
hand to help you bear the weight.
- Margo Roby
life, after, corner, grab, your, once, all, shadow, ambushed, of, rope, bear
The devil’s life,
after retirement,
living in a corner of Ohio
where the older ladies grab
your staunch satanic bum,
was once so sweet n fun.
All day he frisked,
tumbled with his shadow,
ambushed doughnuts
made of tasty sun fed plum.
Until he swung upon a rope
into a lost and hungry bear. O hi! O done.
- Seth Crook
devil, retire, oh, where, staunch, fun, frisked, tumbled, doughnuts, tasty, he, lost
Dearest Devil,
Do you remember how we’d retire
to the lilac bush? Oh, the shade
like frosting, like feathers where
we’d lay our heads, far from my staunch home.
What fun we had so close to the ground.
Frisked by starlight,
tumbled
into doughnuts.
You nibbled grasses, called it tasty.
“He is a goat,” I said about you,
my voice lost in the futureless night.
dearest, remember, lilac, feathers, home, ground, starlight, tumbled, into, nibbled, about, futureless
Dearest silence comes a moment before
nightfall. Do you remember the soft songs
we sang with lilac tongues,
feathers glancing our throats?
Sobbing all the way home,
the ground hid traces of us,
muffled starlight in stones.
We tumbled like gambled chips down
those roads into rouletted futures .
So long had I nibbled at the edges of your
shadow that I forgot about the light.
It’s not a balloon. We can’t set free what’s futureless.
silence, nightfall, sang, glancing, all, traces, stones, gambled, roads, edges, forgot, balloon
You and your practical silence,
Descending like lazy summer nightfall,
Dampening the jealous notes we sang,
Glancing at the nearby courtyard parties.
All the stupid things people do,
Traces remaining like ash on the morning wind,
Let you with no sins throw those particular stones,
While I gambled on a heart’s restless desire,
Chasing wistful thoughts down mottled roads,
Trying to play between the lines, the blurred edges
That time forgot, as we madly scramble,
Awake and alarmed, for that last balloon out of here.
- Gary Glauber
practical, descending, jealous, stupid, morning, particular, restless, wistful, mottled, madly, awake, out
you, ever practical, asked my advice--meanwhile
the moon was shedding sorcery, descending
dangerously into a jealous pool reflecting only
your infinite skin, my stupid sweater hanging like a spirit
lugged to the confessional. Too heavy for a dewy morning,
and this particular morning gleamed off the stars,
restless as the june bug against your window.
your hair hanging in wistful clumps
your cheeks mottled and mantled
and my chest thrashing madly
all for the senses so awake and the lark
out singing and the colors carelessly rising.
- Beth Ayer
ever, shedding, dangerously, infinite, heavy, stars, window, hair, cheeks, chest, senses, singing
your feet are ever click clicking on sidewalks
fingers flicking their opposite fingers, shedding skin,
a dangerously thin bread crumb trail back home
if you should need it. infinite, you’d like to say,
but that word hits heavy, and the universe and time,
waves, stars and pi argue something altogether more endable:
a boy breathing clouds on his rain-sheeted window,
her hair stuck to tape on the back of that picture,
her hands on your cheeks as her face pushes close and you smell her.
the finite cozies to your chest, slows your breath,
brings the city in focus, clicking time, fingers raw, but senses
singing loud (so loud) in your now and your here. and so loud.
click, opposite, bread, need, hits, pi, clouds, tape, close, your, time, here
I.
Cicadas click a hymn, calling
their opposites to immortality.
Flitting away the breadth of days
in basic need, they bang about,
all misses and hits holy.
II.
It hides under everything like pi,
this life, swarming up in clouds,
raining ticker tape bodies down.
III.
Come close, young brooder:
I want to tangle in your hair
for a time, end our season
singing hosanna for hereafter.
calling, their, away, bang, all, hides, life, ticker, brooder, tangle, our, singing
They are calling the lots.
Fanning themselves with their bills.
Giving away our love
in the bang of a gavel.
All this
hides
his life
Stopping the ticker on his chain.
The brooder of machinations
that tangled
our kin. Souls in the same room
singing Dixie one last time.
Take all the things that we like lots,
fanning creative flames from deep within.
Our passion translated into passionate plots:
the tangled webs of which we find ourselves in.
This is our signature, our emotional mark,
what one hides, what one might reveal…
His or her illuminating fear of the dark,
a chain of events that may not even be real.
Of cravings, of appetites, of urges undefended,
Of all that we want and what’s more, what’s desired,
The kith and the kin and all those we’ve befriended,
The ones that in time know us as madly inspired.
-
-Gary Glauber
like, creative, passionate, tangled, signature, reveal, Illuminating, events, appetites, want, befriended, time.
To like life, she acknowledges its lack
of creative originality, its historical samenesses.
Her passionate belief in life's universalities
tangles her tongue when she tries to speak them,
is her signature as she moves through her life.
She believes all things reveal themselves
in the past, illuminating a never-ending cycle
of tradition and events, doomed to forever whet
an appetite for change that never happens,
to want newness in a world forever old.
Once befriended, history is quantitative,
time another window overlooking life.
lack, historical, in, speak, through, believes, past, whet, never, newness, once, window
Do not imagine it's for a lack of trying
to gain some sort of historical
perspective in those who have gone
before, those whose poetic voices speak
through our voices. It is not without
confidence and truth she believes
in all that is, and that was, in the past.
And it is these ones that keenly whet her
for more, for an excellence suspected, never
ending, and a diamond newness to the work
about to begin, once again...
A shuttered window thrown open to tomorrow.
imagine, gain, perspective, voices, it, truth, all, these, excellence, ending, work, tomorrow
imagine you are the boulder. i imagine.
i gain weight just listening, waiting
tympanic membrane resisting perspective
too loud the voices, too unformed raw wrong
it is a nightmare, really.
it is a truth, probably. it is
all of these things adding up to all
of these like one and two and more
a solid brick wall we call excellence
i call abstinence, an ending, curtain (the Ewoks sing,
but it’s back to work for the Stormtroopers, who hold their heads
and wish there was no such things as tomorrow or tomorrow or tomorrow)
